'WHEN YOU CLEAN UP, I'LL GIVE YOUR KIDS BACK'

Plenty of support, such as a promise from a judge and a faith-based
residential program, helps addicts stay clean.

Becky Ward knows what it is like to get a "new life" after meth.

The 30-year-old woman took her first illegal drug, marijuana, when
she was 12, discovered cocaine while attending alternative school as
a teen and was selling and using methamphetamine in her 20s. By the
time she was 28, she was in prison.

Today, Ward is clean and straight. Her smiling face, full figure,
bright blue eyes and shining blonde hair are her testimony. She has
regained custody of all four of her children and is the
owner/operator of a taxicab business.

Samantha Sein has been clean and sober for five years, after 10 years
of meth addiction that caused her to lose her children and her health.

Today, at 36, she is healthy, has a good job and finally has her
children back.

Getting to where these two woman are today took courage,
determination and plenty of support.

It is a combination they hope others will gain through an initiative
by the Laclede County Drug Council.

Ward was able to get support she needed from New Life residential
center, a faith-based program for women who are leaving prison. Sein
went to McCambridge Center for Women, a 30-day rehab facility in
Columbia. The drug council is working toward a similar program for
men and women who want to get off meth.

Laura Valenti has seen what can happen when meth addicts are given
consistent long-term help. The author of "Ozark Meth," a book that
chronicles stories of recovery, is a member of both the drug council
and the New Life board, and she worked for 10 years at the Laclede
County Jail.

"I was Becky's jailer," says Valenti, who stepped down from the jail
administrator position in 2004. "Like St. Paul."

Ward was no saint. Drugs were a major part of her life for so long
they became her financial and emotional support. Today, she turns to
God to see her through. Her faith was her only support during the six
months she spent in prison.

"I just prayed," Ward says.

Deciding to quit

Finding sobriety is a personal commitment, Sein says. Friends,
family, police all tried to tell her it was time to quit, but she
needed to decide that for herself.

That happened when she failed a drug test three times in one month
while she was on probation. Her bond was revoked and she sent back to
prison. She lost custody of her two children.

"Losing my kids was rock bottom," she says.

The last five years have been filled with ups and downs as she
battled her addiction and pancreatitis brought on by her drug use.

But the promise from a judge -- "When you clean up, I'll give your
kids back" -- kept her sober. In March, she gained custody.

But she still battles meth demons. She has nightmares of buying and
taking drugs that are so real she fears they are real. She still
remembers the "foul-smelling oil" that oozed from her body as she
went through detox.

"I was so ashamed," she says.

And she shudders at the memory of a recent phone call from two
"friends" from her past. They had just gotten out of prison on
charges that stemmed from the drug bust that led to her arrest.

"When I told them (I had quit), they said they were proud of me," she
recalls. "They haven't bothered me since, but I'm scared."

Birth and Rebirth

Ward was in prison when she learned that she was pregnant with her
fourth child. Her husband met another woman and left with her and
Ward's three children.

"I was tired," Becky recalls. "I had a kid on the way and no way to
raise her. ... I was done."

She remembered the women from New Life Ministries who would visit the
Laclede County jail every Thursday night. She knew it was her only
answer.

On June 21, 2006, Rebecca Jo was born in a prison hospital. Becky
held her only a few hours before her baby went to live with a
Mennonite family, part of a ministry to help new mothers in prison
maintain custody of their babies.

"It was the hardest thing I ever did in my life," Becky says, the
pain still fresh on her face.

On July 17, she was paroled. She picked up her tiny daughter but soon
had to give her up again, this time to Becky's mother while Becky
went to live at the New Life House, a halfway house for women leaving
prison. She had applied for the program while still in prison,
proposing it as the "home plan" required for parolees.

For the next nearly three months, Becky lived under the structured
rules of the house. She found a job, attended 12-step support group
meetings, went to church, avoided contact with previous "friends"
from her meth years and learned how to live without drugs.

She saved her money for a lawyer so she could get her three older
children back. When she succeeded, it meant she had to leave the New
Life House, which doesn't allow children.

But she still makes regular visits, attends programs and supports
their ministry.

"She did a wise thing," says Valenti, sitting next to her at the
round kitchen table at the New Life House. "She stays in contact."